


Fight For It

by fancyasscheeseballs (girlattherockshow)



Series: An Unlikely Love: Rafael & Anna [6]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Barba speaks Spanglish when he's pissed, F/M, Fluff and Angst, In which we learn about how to express feelings properly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlattherockshow/pseuds/fancyasscheeseballs
Summary: It's been a little over a year since Rafael and Anna started dating, and they've just moved in together. But the stress of their jobs, Anna's school, and life in general is starting to get to them. When something minor becomes something major, will they find their way back to one another?A very special two-parter.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Original Character(s), Rafael Barba/Original Female Character(s)
Series: An Unlikely Love: Rafael & Anna [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597711
Kudos: 25





	1. Fight For It - Part I

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Prompt #43 from 200 Prompts from @drink-it-write-it (“Do you believe in soulmates?” – “No.” – “Oh, well, that’s a shame, because I’m it. I’m your soulmate.”)
> 
> This is going to be a very special two-parter because I start studying for the bar exam hardcore tomorrow so I won’t be able to push as many stories out as frequently. So I thought I’d give y’all a nice, long story to hang on. :)
> 
> A very special thanks to @thatesqcrush and @misssirenlove (tumblr) for their help with writer’s block and translations. Y’all are amazing.
> 
> Song: "King of Anything" by Sara Bareilles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Prompt #43 from 200 Prompts from @drink-it-write-it (“Do you believe in soulmates?” – “No.” – “Oh, well, that’s a shame, because I’m it. I’m your soulmate.”)
> 
> This is going to be a very special two-parter because I start studying for the bar exam hardcore tomorrow so I won’t be able to push as many stories out as frequently. So I thought I’d give y’all a nice, long story to hang on. :)
> 
> A very special thanks to @thatesqcrush and @misssirenlove (tumblr) for their help with writer’s block and translations. Y’all are amazing.
> 
> Song: "King of Anything" by Sara Bareilles

“I don’t know why I let you convince me to see these movies,” Rafael said as he and Anna left the movie theater. “They’re all the same.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Better these than the pretentious foreign films you like.”

“Hey! There is nothing pretentious about Amélie.”

“If you say so, honey. By the way, I was twelve years old when that movie came out.” She liked playfully needling him about his age, particularly because he would pay her back for it in the privacy of their apartment.

He moved his hand down her back to lay just above the pockets of her jeans “You’re asking for it, _Mami_.”

“I will admit, the scripting could have been better.”

“I’m convinced any studio that makes romantic comedies spends most of its budget on actors and forgets to hire writers. ‘Do you believe in soulmates?’ ‘No.’ ‘Oh, well, that’s a shame, because I’m it—I’m your soulmate.’” He was dramatically echoing the last scene of the movie, where, as in all romantic comedies, the boy wins the girl back after screwing it all up. “Who talks like that?”

She sighed and looped her arm through his. “Okay, so they’re not winning any Oscars. But sometimes you need a little fluff, especially after a rough week.”

That week had been especially hard for both of them. Rafael had just finished prosecuting several members of the New York City Archdiocese for running a sex trafficking ring. It had taken a lot out of him, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Apart from being difficult legally, he had received a lot of heat from the D.A.’s office as well as City Hall and the Church regarding the charges. Add to that the personal feelings he had about the case; he was hardly a practicing Catholic, but he still felt some leftover loyalty to the faith in which he was raised, and this case had clearly shaken him.

Meanwhile, Anna was knee-deep in her second semester of law school. Spring break was the next week, thank goodness—she was running herself ragged between studying and working part-time at a diner in Hell's Kitchen. She had also agreed to help her ethics professor with a law review article he was working on. Like most law students, her interests had changed since she started school. Although she had initially wanted to be a defense attorney, after her professional responsibility course, she had become interested in legal ethics and attorney discipline. She said that she wanted to do what she could to hold attorneys to higher standards than what she experienced during her rapist’s trial. All that being said, balancing her studies with a part-time job and doing research was, in some ways, as stressful on her as Rafael’s job was on him. And now that they were living together, it was easy to let that stress cause tiny fissures in their relationship.

That was why she had proposed a weekly date night: even if it was as simple as cooking dinner together, they both agreed it was important to find time to remember why they loved each other. Phones were turned to silent and put away, politics and the law were off-limits topics, and the person who got to choose the date also had to plan it. So far, it had worked out well, but the week had taken its toll and they were both slightly on edge.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, _mi corazón,_ I don’t mean to be cranky. This week has just been…ridiculous.”

“Kinda like the movie?” She gave him a wink. Then, suddenly, she pushed him aside so that she was pinned between him and the side of a nearby building. She held onto the lapels of his coat, pulling him toward her, and lowered her voice to a sultry murmur. “You wanna go home and make our own?”

His eyes widened. “I see at least one sex tape gone wrong every month and you’re suggesting we _make_ one?”

She leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Okay, well, we don’t have to tape it…but could we have a dress rehearsal?” She ran her fingertips down the back of his neck and felt him shiver. “There’s no place like home, after all.”

An image of Anna dressed in ruby red heels and a little blue dress flashed through his mind, and he felt a definite twitch in his jeans. “Ms. Stein,” he said, forehead pressed against hers, inches from her mouth, “you’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

He felt her press her lower body against him, giving him the slightest bit of friction through their many layers of clothes. She tilted her head to the left, as if she were going to kiss him, but before he could claim her mouth, she swerved out of the way and pushed him gently backward. He let out a whine so soft that only she could hear it, and looked back at her, nostrils flaring in frustration.

“I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse,” she said, and raised her eyebrows slightly, daring him. She started to walk casually away from him, but he reached out and caught her by the hand, spinning her back into his chest.

“Now you’re _really_ asking for it, _Mami,”_ he said darkly.

Later that night as he and Anna lay panting with the sheets tangled around them, Rafael admitted that the movie wasn’t _that_ bad.

* * *

Around seven o’clock the following Monday, Anna heard the door slam and a thud on the floor, followed by a very angry Cuban muttering to himself. “I don’t know how _ese pendejo_ hasn’t been sanctioned yet. _¡Mierda!_ I can’t believe _yo tengo que lidiar_ with him again…”

 _Uh oh,_ she thought. It was never a good sign when Rafael peppered his English with Spanish. She got off the couch and crept around the corner to meet him in the hallway. “Babe? Are you—”

“The only way today could have been worse is if Carisi was still shadowing me,” he said, but not really in response to her question. “ _Te juro_ , we better not be out of scotch. _Si no_ , I’m going to strangle myself _con mi propio corbata_ …”

He started toward the liquor cabinet, but suddenly realized that he had, in fact, arrived home and that his girlfriend was standing in the hallway, staring at him like he was a madman.

“Well,” she said, “that was interesting.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. It’s just been—”

“A bad day,” she finished. “Let me get you a drink. Don’t need you hanging from the shower rod _por tu_ _corbata_ later…” She went to the liquor cabinet, thanking God that she’d bought a new bottle of scotch when she grocery shopped that afternoon. She poured some into a glass and handed it to him.

He ran a hand through his hair, which he was sure had become grayer since that morning. “I hope your day was better than mine.”

She leaned on the counter. “What happened?” 

He sighed. “Everything. You were already gone, but I got up late and didn’t have time to make coffee, so I had to get a cup on my way downtown. Unfortunately, some jackass—I’m guessing a Wall Street banker from the attitude—ran into me when he was trying to catch the train, so you can guess where the coffee went. Thankfully, I still have a spare shirt and tie in my office, but of course they didn’t match the suspenders today.”

She tried not to smile, but it was cute that Rafael thought that any of his clothes ever matched his accessories. Somehow, they always _worked_ together, but matched? Not once since she’d met him.

She noticed he hadn’t touched his drink. “Take a sip,” she said, gesturing to the glass.

He took a gulp instead, and then continued his story. “Carmen was out sick today, and of course, the copier decided to break down. Do I look like a guy who can fix a copier? So I have a pile of work for her tomorrow, which is going to thrill her, I’m sure. But here’s the _pièce de résistance_ : I get to arraignment court, and John Buchanan is _el abogado defensor_ , _porque_ _of course he is_. And when I go to take out my pen—you know, one of the silver ones that I special order?—it turns out it’s gone missing, _y tuve que_ _ask him to borrow one._ He made a meal out of that, in open court. ‘At least one of us came prepared, Your Honor.’ Dickhead.”

Anna’s heart dropped into her stomach. “You didn’t have any spare pens on you?”

“No,” he said. “I keep some in my desk, but I could swear I had one in there last night when I was reorganizing, so I didn’t think to take another.” He downed the last of the scotch and poured himself another. “Anyway, how was—what’s wrong?”

She felt the color drain from her face. “Raf, I…”

“You what?”

She could have just kept her mouth shut, but Rafael was in such a _mood_ and was clearly angry with himself for what he thought was his own mistake. She couldn’t in good conscience let him stew over that part of his day. Sighing, she walked to the living room and rummaged around in her backpack. When she came back around, he saw that she was clutching something small, thin, and shiny in her hand.

“Last night, you were reorganizing your briefcase around the time I was packing my stuff for school,” she began. “Your stuff was all on the table, and so was mine, and I think—I think this just got mixed in with my stuff accidentally. You probably thought you’d already put it back in there.”

He stared at her hand, unmoving, still clutching his scotch. He looked momentarily dazed. And then, a dark expression washed over his face. “Damnit, Anna,” he said, a little too calmly. “Could you be a little more careful next time?”

Something about the way he said it made her blood simmer. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Rafael. It was an accident.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what an accident is,” he said condescendingly. “But that accident caused me a significant amount of embarrassment in court today.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I guarantee you, nobody cared as much as you did. Buchanan pulls that shit all the time. Everyone knows what an asshole he is, including the judges.”

He slammed the glass back on the counter; it would have shattered if it hadn’t been so heavy. “That’s not the point!” he snapped. “Things like that can’t happen. My reputation—”

“Will not be sullied by forgetting a goddamn pen,” she finished. She started to go back to the couch to finish her reading—she was trying to get ahead during the week off—but he stepped in front of her.

“Anna, can you take this seriously for one damn minute?” His eyes flared, the green deepening with his anger. “I _only_ use those pens. They’re pretty hard to mistake for the crappy BIC pens you use. How did you not realize—”

She didn’t mean to, but she laughed. “Oh my God, you are such a drama queen! And by the way, my day was stressful too, thank you very much for asking.”

His posture was the same as he used in court—chest out, back straight, arms crossed. “A _drama queen? Estás parado aquí_ rapid-firing sarcasm at me, and _I’m_ being a drama queen?”

“And here comes the Spanglish again,” she muttered. She knew she wasn’t making things any better, but she couldn’t help it. The stress of school, her job, the research position, and now his reaction to a simple mistake on her part had finally caused her to snap. “You know, if you had the sense to keep more than one pen in your briefcase, this wouldn’t have even been an issue, buddy.”

His eyes narrowed at her, brows drawn together. “You know what? I’m going to go take a walk and get some dinner before I say something I regret.” He grabbed his coat again and stomped off toward the door, gone before she could even think of a response.

* * *

Of all people he could have texted when he left the apartment, Carisi was the last person he would have chosen, but everyone else with whom he would have wanted to share his misery had a kid to take care of. So he invited Carisi to dinner; at least he would be able to understand the frustrations of Rafael’s job. And to his great surprise, Rafael actually had a decent time talking to the young lawyer-slash-detective. Carisi was nothing if not a glass-half-full kind of guy, and throughout their dinner, he somehow managed to ninja Rafael’s brain into realizing how silly he had been.

“I think this is residual stress from the trafficking trial,” Carisi had said. “I don’t think this is really about a pen.”

“Do you think this means there’s something wrong with the relationship? I don’t even understand what _happened_ tonight.”

“Come on, Barba, you’re a realist. Love isn’t like the movies and you know that. You and Anna, you have something I’d kill for. Sometimes life gets to you, but that’s when you really gotta dig in and realize that you’re each other’s partner because you want to be.”

Rafael had smirked into his glass of scotch. “Well, you can’t have her. I found her first.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here with me?” Carisi had asked. “Go home and apologize. Maybe pick up some flowers along the way.”

An hour later, Rafael fully intended on doing just that. But when he came back, holding a bouquet of daisies, the apartment was dark. He thought maybe Anna had gone out for a drink with one of her girlfriends to calm down, and he couldn’t really blame her. He headed for the bedroom to change into some more comfortable clothes while he waited for her to return, but when he turned on the light, he was greeted by a piece of paper on the bed. Even from across the room, he could see Anna’s perfect script. Somehow, she’d maintained it despite using her laptop for all her schoolwork. As he read it, his heart began to pound in his ears.

> _Rafael,_
> 
> _I think we both need a vacation, but maybe they should be taken separately. Turns out, Amanda needs one too. We’re going to Nashville tomorrow. I’ll let you know when I land. Please take care of yourself this week. I love you._
> 
> _Anna_

He reread the note three times before he realized something that made him angry again, but this time, at himself. Anna had left, clearly upset, but the last thing she said was “I love you.” And he had been so worried about saying something he would regret that he’d done the exact opposite: he now regretted not saying something he should have.


	2. Fight For It - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Prompt #43 from 200 Prompts from @drink-it-write-it (“Do you believe in soulmates?” – “No.” – “Oh, well, that’s a shame, because I’m it. I’m your soulmate.”)
> 
> The finale of this special two-part story.
> 
> A very special thanks to @madpanda75, @thatesqcrush, and @misssirenlove (tumblr) for being generally awesome.
> 
> Song: "Ours" by Taylor Swift

There was nearly a decade between Amanda Rollins and Anna Stein, but they could easily be mistaken for sisters, only a year or two apart. Of all the squad members, Anna was closest with Olivia, and so she might have asked if the lieutenant could use some time away from work, but she thought better of it. Olivia was Rafael’s best friend, after all, and he would probably want to talk to her over the course of the week. However, since the party he had thrown to celebrate Anna’s first semester grades, Amanda and Anna had also formed a fast friendship. Amanda was a lot of fun and up for anything without needing an explanation, as Liv might have asked for. As it turned out, she also had a copious amount of vacation time saved up. So, she bribed Carisi into taking Jesse for the week—with the use of her sitter for the daytime—and told Olivia a slight fib about a “family emergency back home.” By Tuesday night, she and Anna were on a plane headed to Tennessee.

Originally, Anna had suggested Vegas, but Amanda—a recovering gambling addict—quickly countered with Nashville. Anna had never been there, but Amanda said she would love it: all the fun of Vegas bars without the price tag, and the added bonus of hot cowboys. Amanda knew Nashville like the back of her hand; she had graduated from Middle Tennessee State University. The college was only about thirty miles from downtown Nashville, and Amanda and her friends frequently went into the city on weekends. So she knew exactly where to go and what to do, and Anna was more than happy to let her lead the way.

Although in some ways, Amanda had become a hardened New Yorker, she quickly reverted to her roots after only a day in Tennessee. She took Anna along for the ride, converting the native Californian to a Southern belle. During the days, they visited the Parthenon, Music Row, and the Country Music Hall of Fame. They took walks along the riverfront and even went to the Grand Ole Opry. Amanda had done most of these things already, but she was content to do them again with her friend, who clearly needed the distraction.

At night, they teased their blonde hair (Amanda joked that “the higher the hair, the closer to God”) and wore obscenely short denim skirts and cowboy boots while drinking on Honky Tonk Row. At some point, they found themselves in a karaoke bar, and Anna shocked the hell out of Amanda by singing the mysterious, little-known third verse of Garth Brooks’ “Friends in Low Places.” They talked about their families and how much they missed them; Amanda’s mother and sister had moved back to Atlanta and she rarely got to see them, while all of Anna’s family still lived in Los Angeles, where she also had lived until four years ago. But all the while, Anna did not bring up Rafael once, and Amanda didn’t ask about him.

But by dinner on Monday, Amanda’s curiosity got the better of her. They were sitting at a bar nursing vodka tonics and eating the best burgers Anna had ever had, when Amanda asked, “So, since we’re scheduled to fly out tomorrow morning, you gonna tell me why we came?”

“Sorry?”

“Well, as much fun as this trip has been—”

“So much fun!” Anna said. “It’s honestly been the best girls’ trip I’ve ever taken.”

Amanda smiled. “I’m glad you had fun, but I have to ask…”

Anna set her burger down in favor of a sip of her drink. “I don’t want to make it weird for you when you have to deal with him at work,” she said. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.”

“Okay, first off,” Amanda began, “unless you’re telling me about whatever weird kinks Barba has in the sack, nothing you could say would make me feel weird around him. And second, it must have been a pretty big deal for you to want to get out of the damn state for a week.”

“Maybe I just wanted to do something fun over spring break with a friend,” Anna replied, avoiding eye contact.

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m a detective, right?”

Anna laughed. “You and, like, half my other friends.” She put her face in her hands and then turned on her bar stool toward Amanda and told her the whole story, starting with Rafael’s Spanish-laced tirade when he arrived home to the moment he stormed back out. Amanda listened quietly the entire time, the same as she did when investigating a case. Her face betrayed nothing—no doubt a skill she learned in her gambling days.

When Anna finally finished, Amanda took a deep breath. “You know, I can’t say any of this surprises me.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “What?”

Amanda downed the last of her vodka. “Well, let me start by saying that you did the right thing getting out of there. A lot of women would’ve hung around waiting for him to get home. Took a lot of guts to do what you did.”

“What, run away?”

“You planning to go back?”

“Of course,” Anna said, a little taken aback.

“Then you didn’t run away. You decided that for the good of your relationship, you needed to take some time for yourself. No shame in that.”

Anna took a moment to process this. “It really was a stupid fight,” she finally said.

“Yeah,” Amanda agreed. “But, you know, all couples fight. At least you’re fighting about stupid things than about, I don’t know, whatever the hell my old partner, Nick, and his wife used to fight about.”

“I guess,” Anna said.

Amanda put her hand on top of Anna’s. “Anna, look at me.” Anna looked up, pushing a wisp of her hair away from her eyes. “You’ve gotta understand, Barba has been alone for a _long_ time. And take it from me, when you’re alone that long, you get used to thinking you’re right all the time because there’s no one telling you otherwise.”

“I get that, but maybe we’re just too different. Maybe he’s been alone _too_ long. Maybe I _don’t_ take things seriously enough. Maybe it’s just too—” 

Amanda held up her hands. “Look, I get it. He’s a stubborn pain in the ass. Hell, he’s hard to _work_ with, so I can’t imagine living with him. You’ve got a pretty big age gap, and you’re both really busy with work and school. So I would completely understand if you decided you weren’t right for each other.” Then she softened her voice. “But I told you once before, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. And when I asked if you were planning to go back, you looked at me like I was nuts for even asking that question. That says something to me.”

Suddenly, the bartender came over with two shots of whiskey. “From the gentlemen down that way,” he said, gesturing to two young, _extremely_ handsome men sitting at the end of the bar.

Anna and Amanda looked at the men, then at each other. “You wanna go talk to ‘em?” Amanda asked, a sly grin on her face.

Anna hesitated for a second, looked at the men again, and then took out her phone. “Give me a second.” A minute later, she put it away and grabbed one of the shot glasses. “Okay. Ready.”

They clinked their glasses, tapped them on the bar, and downed the shots. “Sisters, right?” Amanda asked, referring to their cover story.

Anna hopped off her barstool and the two of them linked arms. “Sisters.”

* * *

Rafael was miserable.

Anna had only texted him twice a day since she’d landed in Nashville the previous Tuesday: once in the morning, and once at night. It was largely the same message every time: good morning or goodnight, and that she hoped he had a good day. He appreciated that, despite her anger, she at least wanted him to know that she was safe. And he wanted to give her the space she had clearly demanded, so he didn’t message more than that. He wasn’t a jealous man who needed to know what his girlfriend was doing every minute of the day, after all. Anna had gone on a handful of trips with her friends over the course of their relationship. That wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered him was that this time, she did it to get away _from him_ rather than to get away _with_ other people. That made all the difference. He trusted Anna implicitly. But every night, after he’d finally dragged himself home to bed, his brain went to a dark place where she met some stranger in Nashville, some ridiculous cowboy, who made her realize that he wasn’t worth the effort.

And because of what? A damn pen.

The day after she left, he threw them all out.

He felt like a bachelor again, but this time it wasn’t self-imposed. Nevertheless, he had reverted to his bachelor ways, working as much as he could until the wee hours of the morning. On Thursday and Friday mornings, Carmen had found him asleep on his office couch in the same clothes he’d worn the previous day. He worked right through the weekend, up until Sunday night. The good news was that he actually seemed to have caught up on a good deal of his backlogged work. The bad news was that he couldn’t even enjoy the spoils because he had no one to enjoy them with.

He had lunch with Olivia a couple of times and didn’t mention what was going on. She noticed something was off, but he deflected, saying he just hadn’t slept well that week. It wasn’t a lie.

Since he had gotten caught up with work that week, he decided to take Monday off. He cleaned out his closet, donating a bunch of clothes he hadn’t worn in a year. Anna had said more than once that she wanted to get a rain shower head, so he went out and bought one and installed it. Carisi came over with Jessie and a pizza that evening. Rafael had never been comfortable around children, but he had to admit that watching Carisi play with Jesse made him want to participate. So he and the detective and Amanda’s daughter colored and ate pizza—and for a minute, he forgot about being alone. Then, he got the nightly text from Anna, and was reminded all over again that she wasn’t going to be next to him in bed.

By Tuesday, he was climbing the walls. Work was the only thing he knew would take his mind off of the long wait until she arrived back home, so he threw himself into it that day. He had to give his phone to Carmen so that he wouldn’t be tempted to check it every ten seconds. She gave him a weird look but took it anyway. When three o’clock hit, he gathered his things to head home. Anna’s flight was due in at four, and he wanted to be there when she got home so that he could tell her what he’d failed to tell her before she left.

* * *

The light in the bedroom was on when he got home. For a split second, he was terrified—was there an intruder? And would his briefcase be enough to knock said intruder unconscious? But then he noticed the suitcase against the wall adjacent to the living room.

His heart raced. She must have gotten back early.

He found her in the master bathroom putting her toiletries away. She was wearing old, beat-up jeans and a t-shirt, and her hair was in a messy ponytail, but to Rafael, she had never looked more beautiful. He stood watching her for just a second, breathless. He worried if he said anything that it wouldn’t come out right. The last conversation they had turned out terribly.

But as soon as she turned her blue eyes up and locked onto the green of his, words were the last thing on either of their minds.

She flew at him, leaping into his arms and knocking him backwards onto the bed. She kissed him everywhere; on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and, finally, _finally,_ his mouth. He kissed her so deeply that he thought he might actually be able to drink her. She tasted like mint and smelled like ripe peaches. She had come back to him in a flood of living memories. She had come back to him, period.

He finally pulled back to look her in the eyes again, his own wet with tears. “ _Te amo_ ,” he said. “ _Te amo, mi corazón._ ” He repeated it like a prayer, so many times that he worried it lost meaning, but to Anna, nothing ever sounded better.

Rafael made love to Anna for the next two hours, and every time he moaned her name, “I love you” wasn’t far behind.

After they were both finally spent, they lay under a throw blanket on the bedroom carpet; at some point in their lovemaking, Anna actually rolled off the bed and they just continued there, laughing and kissing all at once. She told Rafael about her trip and all the things she and Amanda had seen and done. He hung on every word. But there was one more story she had to tell, and she hoped that when he heard it, he would understand why she reacted the way she did when he arrived home.

“So,” she said, “I don’t think I mentioned, we had a cover story on this trip that we were sisters. We didn’t use our own names with anyone we met the entire time. It was like being undercover. So last night—”

He laughed. “Okay, I have to know. What was your UC name?”

“I was Ariel and Amanda was Aurora.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You seriously used Disney princess names?”

“Well, if you’re gonna go UC, no better cover than a mermaid and a narcoleptic princess, right?”

“Does that mean I get to be Eric?” When she gaped at him, he said, “We’ve been together for over a year. I think you underestimate how much Disney trivia I’ve picked up in that time.”

She drew in a deep breath and focused her eyes on his. “So, as I was saying, last night, we were having dinner and two really hot cowboys sent us shots of whiskey.”

He sat up slightly, alarmed. “Okay, why are you telling me—”

“Because you need to hear this,” she said, pushing him back down and propping herself up on her elbow. “Amanda wanted to go talk to them. And we ended up having a really good conversation. It was a lot of fun.” He looked stricken, and she softened her expression. “Raf, you know nothing happened, right?”

“Of course I know that,” he said, although he was glad for the confirmation. “I just—it’s not that I don’t want you to go on trips with your friends. But this time…I guess I wish I could have been there with you.”

She smiled and kissed his shoulder. “You _were_ , Raf. That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“Right before we went to talk to them? That was when I texted you goodnight. Because I wanted to make sure I said goodnight before you went to bed—whenever the hell that was this week. I didn’t want to do it late and have you wonder if I’d forgotten you.”

He felt tears welling in his eyes again. “Anna, I never would have thought that.”

“Even still. You were on my mind every night and every morning. I wasn’t just texting you to let you know I was safe. I wanted you to know that no matter what happens, no matter where I am or how things are between us, I’m always thinking of you. And,” she added, “I’ll always come home to you.”

He sat up and wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck, into her hair, and brought his lips to hers. When he pulled back, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

She pressed her forehead to his. “I’m sorry, too.” Then, she grabbed his watch from the nightstand above them. “I know it’s not our usual date night, but I could sure as hell use dinner and a movie right now. How about you?”

He smiled at her and ran a hand along her hip, memorizing the curves. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll even let you pick the movie.”

* * *

Anna wiped away her tears, which had been flowing for the last twenty minutes. After they’d eaten, she and Rafael had settled in to watch her favorite movie, _What Dreams May Come_. The plot was simple: the two main characters, Chris and Annie, lose their children in a horrible car accident. Annie has a mental breakdown and is institutionalized until she and Chris manage to rebuild their lives. But four years later, Chris also dies. His afterlife is beautiful, and he is reunited with his children. But when Annie commits suicide and is sent to hell, Chris journeys there to save her.

Even though Anna had seen it a thousand times, watching the two characters reunited at the end of the movie never failed to turn her into a weeping mess. She didn’t even try to hide it. “God,” she said, “That scene where they’re in Hell and he’s about to join her there and—Raf? Are you okay?”

Unlike Anna, Rafael preferred people think he was born without tear ducts. But there was no mistaking the sound of his sniffling next to her. “I’m fine,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

She leaned over and turned the end table light on. As her eyes adjusted, she caught him wiping his cheek with his shirt sleeve. “You’re crying!”

“I am not—”

“Yes, you are.” She handed him a Kleenex from the box she’d judiciously placed next to her before the movie started. He took it and blew his nose. “I warned you it was a gut-punch.”

“When you said it was a movie about soulmates, I think I expected, well, the usual tropes. I wasn’t prepared for something that seemed…realistic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Almost the entire movie was set in heaven, and this is the one you’re calling realistic?”

“That’s not what I mean. Usually, movies make it seem like soulmates are perfect together and never fight and read each other’s minds. But come on, who gets that?”

She laughed. “People in movies.”

“Exactly,” he said. “People whose lives are literally scripted. But I don’t think our lives are predestined. For instance, I don’t think whatever higher power there is intended for you to be assaulted so that I could meet you.”

She cast her eyes downward. “Well, I’m glad to know that, because if that were the case, I’d think God was a huge asshole.”

He shifted on the couch to face her. “You want to know what part of the movie it was that got me?”

“Of course.”

He took a deep breath. “It was when they finally explained what their double-D anniversary was.” In the movie, Chris and Annie had a special anniversary; it commemorated the day they decided not to divorce after their children died and Annie had her breakdown.

“Oh, I know. When he told her not to give up—”

“No, it wasn’t that.” He cleared his throat. “When I first heard them described as soulmates, I was internally rolling my eyes. But then, we saw them suffering in two completely different ways. He pushed the pain away, and she collapsed under it.”

“Life’s like that,” she replied. “People react differently to things.”

“Yeah. But that’s what got me. They weren’t on the same wavelength at all. They didn’t just push through everything together like it was easy. They had to make an active decision to do it. When they chose to stay together, even after the gargantuan amount of suffering they went through…”

She pushed her hair over one of her shoulders and tilted her head. “So you do believe in soulmates now?”

“You know,” he said, “I don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility. But like I said, I think soulmates aren’t people who are perfect together.” He took her hand. “I think they’re two people who _aren’t_ perfect together—maybe even two people don’t even make sense together—but who make the choice every day to come back to each other. They fight, sometimes blow up, maybe don’t even speak to each other for a week, but they actively choose each other every day.”

She moved closer to him, tucking her legs underneath herself. “That sounds…very plausible.”

“Plausible,” he repeated with a chuckle. “In what world am I the romantic in this relationship?”

She grinned. “We can share the title.”

“I was thinking about the fight we had,” he said, pivoting so fast that Anna was worried he was shutting down on her again.

“Okay?”

“It was a nothing fight, but it turned into this big blow-up,” he continued. “A lot of couples would have let it get into their heads and make it into something about the relationship itself.”

She picked off a piece of lint from his shirt and smoothed the fabric over his shoulder. “Well, we’re not other couples.”

He nodded. “And I know how people look at us when we’re out together. They see you, this beautiful, young, vibrant woman, and then they see me—”

“A handsome, distinguished, slightly silver fox?” she offered, gently touching his hair, the silver in it just beginning to show.

He smiled and put his hand on her cheek. The softness of her skin was like her generous heart: it never failed to amaze him. “The point is, despite what people think or say, or when life makes love hard, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that we work at this, even through the hardest days, because we want to. We choose each other, every day—even if we need to go to other states to do it.” He winked at her.

She lifted his hand from her cheek and kissed his palm, her heart beating so hard it might have jumped out of her chest. “Are you saying…”

He didn’t complete her thought, but he didn’t have to. She knew the answer when he gave her that half-smile she loved so much. It made him look like a man much younger than his years, almost timid, a little mischievous. “I know, I just destroyed my grumpy, cynical persona. Don’t tell the squad; I have a reputation to keep up.”

For a minute, he was afraid that she would think he was silly or—worse—being disingenuous. But then he caught her eyes with his, and they were sparkling. She crawled from her spot on the couch into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know, in the movies, this would be when the boy asks the girl to marry him,” she laughed.

He pulled her to him, so that their lips almost touched. “Well, we’re not other couples,” he said, just before he closed the gap between them.

* * *

Two weeks later, Anna had fallen asleep on the couch hours ago while she was reading and he was reviewing case files. He couldn’t remember a time when she _hadn’t_ fallen asleep when she read on the couch. She would lay with her legs stretched across his lap and he would run his hands along her calves, sometimes massaging them if she’d had a particularly hard day at the diner. She thought it was for her benefit, but the truth was, he loved doing it. Knowing he could relax her into sleep just with the touch of his hands was an intimacy he loved even more than sex. And so it was that he found himself lifting her legs off of his lap carefully, trying not to wake her. Mercifully, she was a heavy sleeper. It would probably be a struggle to get her into bed later on. For now, he decided to just change into pajamas and do the rest of his work in the home office. But there was something he wanted to do first.

The fight they’d had was a turning point. It had been a result of nothing more than mishandled stress on both of their parts. It hadn’t been anything deeper than that. But it had scared him more than any other argument they had ever had. She had gone away on trips before that, but he hadn’t been lonely. Their apartment still felt like their home because he knew she would be back. But when she’d been away with Amanda that week, he had been afraid she would realize she was happier away from _him._ So their home had temporarily transformed into just a place to keep his stuff. It didn’t feel comfortable. It didn’t feel warm. It just felt like four walls he slept in. Waking up without her was excruciating, as was knowing he would have to fall asleep without her there. He’d missed her laughter, her smile, the way he could smell her shampoo for hours after she’d left the bed. He’d missed seeing her body wash next to his in the shower.

He had missed her legs on his lap.

He crept into the bedroom and turned on the nightstand light, the dimmest in the room, so as not to wake her from afar. Then he went into the closet and opened one of the drawers. She never went into his closet, saying that she was afraid she would get lost under a pile of ties and vests, never to be seen again. He reached deep within the drawer, toward the back, and found what he was looking for.

Anna had joked that, in the movies, after a boy told a girl she was his soulmate, he would ask her to marry him. Although he had deflected the comment with a kiss, for just a heartbeat, he thought she had somehow tripped, fallen, and landed in his sock drawer. He had managed to compose himself, but now, his overstimulated, paranoid brain needed to make sure she hadn’t actually found what he was holding.

He looked over his shoulder, and then carefully opened the velvet box in his hand. The ring he had bought was still there, the question within it. All he had to do was choose a day to ask.


End file.
